


i see stars (and i think of you)

by orangecrane



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Gen, Insecurity, Mild Language, Modern Era, One Shot, Platonic Cuddling, Racetrack Higgins is a good friend, warning: this is pretty damn sappy, yeah thats it thats their relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26230138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangecrane/pseuds/orangecrane
Summary: Albert's not having a great time. But one late night phone call to arguably (definitely) the best friend ever might make it better, even if said friend insists on driving over in the middle of the night. Racetrack just hopes that Albert knows that he wouldn't do this for anyone else.
Relationships: Racetrack Higgins & Albert DaSilva
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	i see stars (and i think of you)

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by asexualbert so ty for the prompt and I hope you like it! Sorry it took a bit to finish but I really enjoyed writing this one. Feel free to leave any constructive criticism!

Race’s phone is ringing. It’s one in the morning and he’s almost asleep when it goes off. He’s tempted to decline the call and block whoever dared to call him, he’s also tempted to throw his phone across the room. He does neither of these things. Instead he half-assedly reaches for his glasses and practically jams them onto his face, and finally checks the caller ID. Oh, it’s Albert. What the fuck does he want now?

It’s only by virtue of about a decade of friendship that Race picks up. “Albert I swear to all that is holy if you’re calling me to talk about some fuckin’ alien conspiracy theories I am hanging up and ending our friendship immediately,” Race says, not even giving Albert a chance to speak. 

“Race you can’t seriously tell me you don’t believe in aliens, can you? They’re out there!” Albert replies indignantly. Race is all of two seconds away from hanging up when Albert continues, “No, but seriously Racer, I- I really need someone to talk to right now.”

“Oh shit Albo, what’s up?”

“I’ve just been having a bad day. Well, week,” Albert takes a shuddering breath.

And Race is suddenly more awake. He knows that Al wouldn’t have called him this late for something like this if it wasn’t serious. “Talk to me, Al,” Race says softly.

“I just… why are you my friend? Why are any of you guys my friends?” 

“What?”

“You heard me Race, I- I’m not especially skilled or smart,” Albert’s voice breaks and he starts talking faster, “an-and I just need to know why you like me.” Race’s heart breaks, pain radiates from his chest and he feels sick to his stomach. His friend sounds like he’s about to cry. Albert almost never cries.

“Oh Albert… you’re my best friend in the world,” Race breathes out, “you may not be the most booksmart but that doesn’t mean you aren’t smart, you’re fantastic at skateboarding and researching things and taking care of your plants and you always find the best rocks and you’re the only one who can match me when we talk about astronomy. Those are all skills aren’t they? You’re also funny and you put up with so much of my shit, you’re like, the most loyal person I know and you’re always there for your friends when we need you. What’s there not to like?”

“... A lot,” Albert mumbles.

Race is insistent, “Well I can’t think of a single thing, besides, you know me too well to think that I’d lie to you about something like this. You know what? I’m coming over. I’ll see you in like twenty minutes Albie.”

“Wait, Race, you don’t need to-” Race hangs up. Too bad for Al, Race has already made up his mind. It’ll be easier to talk to him in person and maybe he’ll be able to slap some sense into Albert if he continues to think poorly about himself. No one is allowed to talk down to Race’s best friend besides Race himself, not even said best friend.

He drags himself out of bed and briefly considers just driving to Al’s as is, but quickly reasons that if he wants to stop by a store on the way over he’d need to put on pants. He fumbles around for a pair of sweatpants using his phone as a light. Finds a pair that doesn’t seem too dirty and throws them on, then makes his way downstairs quietly, grabbing his keys and wallet on the way out the door.

He’s about three steps outside when he shivers in the cold air, maybe not grabbing a jacket as well was a bad idea. Welp, too late for that. Grumbles to himself about how cold it is and how late it is on his way to the car and nearly all the way to the nearest twenty-four hour convenience store. Albert is so lucky he’s Race's best friend, he wouldn’t do this for anyone else. Like, seriously, he’s out here in a stupid store at stupid o’clock getting weird looks from the cashier while he looks for some stupid star stickers (they’re not stupid but Race is tired and grumpy and cold and he wants to complain) for his stupid friend (also not stupid: see earlier note). Not only that but Race is spending his hard earned money on these little glow in the dark star stickers just to make him feel better, well Albert better appreciate all that Race does for him.

He moves through the checkout station as quickly and with as little speaking as possible. He knows that glow stars are a bit of a weird thing to be buying at this hour, but he’s got a plan and they are a vital piece. Race takes his receipt and the stars and throws them in the passenger seat of his car and continues his drive to Albert’s house.

When Race arrives he grabs the stickers and hops the fence to walk down the side of Albert’s house. He walks down the narrow alleyway and crouches down about three-quarters to the end, slides through the open window in Albert’s room in the basement. Smiles to himself, he always enjoyed entering his house this way, there’s just a certain thrill that makes him feel like he’s in a heist or something. Though the way the window sill scrapes at his back is certainly less fun.

“You didn’t have to come over, Racer,” Albert says the moment Racetrack’s feet hit the floor.

“Yeah well I did, and I come bearing gifts,” Race proclaims. He quickly surveys the room, the only light on is the lamp on the bedside table and Albert is sitting on his bed, phone in hand and looking the slightest bit like he was trying to hide the fact that he’d been crying. That was mildly concerning, Race was glad Albert had called him.

“What?”

“Well since it seems you have little object permanence-”

“-What’s that supposed to mean!” Okay maybe Race shouldn't be teasing him right now, but maybe it'd be even weirder not to.

Race shakes the packet of stickers at Albert. “I have acquired some objects to be here permanently when I am not so you cannot possibly forget that I am the best friend ever.”

“Are those glow in the dark stars? Like for a ceiling?” Albert looks more confused than anything. That is… disappointing but expected.

“Yes, my dear friend, they are,” Race says with all the drama one would expect of the one and only Racetrack Higgins.

“Okay, but why?” Race falters. He’s not exactly prone to thinking things through but he was certain this made sense. However, Albert still doesn’t seem to get it.

“Well…” Race continues much quieter and considerably more nervous, maybe this is a stupid idea, “we always talk about the stars ‘n stuff and whenever I look at them now I think of you.”

Fuck, that was sappy, and not exactly to the point but important nonetheless. And Albert still looks like he doesn’t get what he's trying to say. So Race continues, now almost rambling, “And I kinda thought that maybe you did the same thing so if we put these on your ceiling then whenever you feel down on yourself or like I don't like you for some reason you’d see the stars and think of me and know that I’ll always be here for you, ya know? Best friends for life ‘n all that. Do you really think I would have done this for someone I didn't like or who wasn't a good friend?”

There's a moment where neither of them speak before Race starts cracking his knuckles nervously. “It kinda sounds stupid now that I say it out loud.”

“No,” Albert chokes out, and Race swears he looks like he’s about to cry, though maybe that was just from before Race and he hadn’t been paying enough attention, “it’s not stupid.”

Race shoots him a look that screams ‘Are you kidding me?’, now that he’d said it out loud he was almost certain it was a stupid idea. Seriously, who gets a call from their friend who is clearly having kind of a hard time and then proceeds to hang up on them, buy some cheap little decorations, and show up at their house like that would fix anything? God, what was Race thinking? “Okay, it’s a little ridiculous,” Albert amends, “but that is such a Racetrack plan I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

“I… don't know what you mean by that Albie…”

“It means I like it and think it's a good idea,” and Albert gives him this grin, like he’s something precious, and it makes Race feel all warm inside. He loves being able to make the red-head smile like that. “In fact, we’re putting these up right now.”

“Oh, so now you’re making me do work? After I came all this way? You’re lucky you’re my best friend Dasilva,” Race teases, but he’s already opening the package to get going. He won’t admit it but he thinks that them putting up the stars together makes it a little more special. Reinforces the idea that they’re a physical reminder of Race and that he loves Albert enough to go through all this trouble for him.

Both boys get to work quickly, dragging furniture around to stand on and filling Albert’s ceiling. They laugh and joke as they work, occasionally trying to create actual constellations only to have the other mess it up. Race is almost successful at creating a dick out of stars before Albert notices and derails his art piece, leaving Race pouting and Albert caught between laughing and telling him off. By the time they finish they are both in considerably better moods and utterly exhausted.

“You gonna sleep here, Racer?” Albert questions, already half-asleep. Race takes off his glasses and sets them on Albert’s nightstand.

“If you think you can get away with waking me up in the middle of the night, making me drive all the way over here, forcing me to work for you, and then not giving me any cuddles in return then you have got another thing coming mister. Now scoot over bitch,” Race demands, not waiting for Albert to move before flopping down onto the bed half-way on top of the other boy. 

“Stupider isn’t a word,” Albert says. He adjusts himself anyways, moving over to give Race some more room. Once they are both situated Albert wraps his arm around Race, allowing him to curl into his side. Albert sighs contentedly, holding his friend close and looking at his new ceiling decorations. There really was no way he’d ever be able to look at them and not think of the boy next to him and how much he cares for him. “Hey Racer,” Albert hesitates, “thanks for… everything.”

“‘S no problem Albie,” Race burrows his head into the crook of Albert’s neck and mumbles, “I’d do just about anything for you.”


End file.
